


(Don't) Make Me Stay

by Tobezilla



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Depression, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:16:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6997483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobezilla/pseuds/Tobezilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Depression is not kind. Depression is not beautiful. Depression is not a fashion trend. Depression is not a phase. As hard as depression can be to battle, it becomes a lot easier when you’re not facing it alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Don't) Make Me Stay

He wondered when the last time something sweet touched his tongue. As cheap liquor lured the daily worries from his mind and rough hands forced his body into an acceptable position, he decided that he would bake a massive cake with loads of strawberry icing and sprinkles. People murmured around him, ignoring his presence as though he were nothing more than a piece of furniture in the center of the room. It was what he wanted, what he needed. He thought about the people waiting for him at the tower and what they would think if they knew Tony Stark liked being used and abused, always begging for more like a two dollar whore.

With the aliens and other enhanced people they fought on a weekly basis, something like that shouldn’t surprise them. Everyone had to release tension somehow. The Captain destroyed punching bags, Clint spent time in the shooting range, Natasha sharpened each knife from her personal collection, Bruce meditated (or got stoned, Tony was convinced), Thor went out for midnight flights and Tony liked being used as a sex toy.

Pain blossomed on his right cheek as his head snapped to the side. No one would notice the extra bruises here and there. He had gotten knocked around inside the Iron Man suit earlier that afternoon and had retreated from the scene once the battle came to an end. Whoever slapped him had been wearing a ring, he could feel the blood trickling past his cheek as he was jerked violently on the disgusting sweat and semen covered wooden table. A single bright light shined above him, blinding him and concealing those around him. It was like he was being fucked by shadows.

Time was beyond him. The second he entered the room, there were no clocks or windows. But once he was thrown from the table and onto the ground, replaced by another man that was anxiously awaiting to be used, he could tell that hours had gone by. He was not allowed to stand until he exited the room and entered the bathroom across the hallway. Once he was inside, he stood on shaking legs and glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror.

Sweat drenched chestnut brown locks were glued to his forehead, a large cut ran along his right cheek with blood covering that entire side of his face (a couple locks of hair were covered with dry blood), there were unsettling bruises beneath each of his eyes and his cheeks were beginning to hollow. Even his collar bones were more pronounced. Makeup would do nothing to conceal the weight loss. He could feel the impending conversation about making healthier choices coming on. One from Pepper and another from Steve. He would smile and nod, say that he would do better, but they knew that he would fall down the rabbit hole again.

He cleaned as best he could with from the water from the faucet before yanking his clothing back on and slipping the sunglasses back onto his face. As he made his way out of the apartment building crawling with drug dealers and prostitutes among other things, a couple men grabbed onto him for short make-out sessions. By the time he emerged, he was panting slightly and needing to run a hand through his hair for the millionth time. He checked his phone and blinked several times before shoving it back into his pocket. The sun would be rising soon.

The second he entered the tower, he could feel the overwhelming urge to leave. The entire team was gathered in the kitchen, murmuring quietly to each other. It was five o’clock in the morning. The only person that would be awake at that time was Steve and he would have been running throughout Manhattan, not standing in the kitchen. Tony made a desperate attempt to return to the elevator but was caught by Natasha.

“We need to have a conversation, Stark.” She said, piercing blue eyes cutting into him like knives.

He learned from experience that one should never go against Natasha Romanov. She walked him into the kitchen, noticing how he made himself smaller under their concerned gazes, and forced him down into one of the opened seats. Rather than settle down beside him, she remained behind him with a comforting hand on his shoulder. Even though she could be intimidating, Natasha was more like an over-protective sister that cared immensely about her family. So he relaxed under her touch and exhaled shakily, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Tony,” There was nothing Tony hated more than hearing pain in Steve’s voice, “I know you may not be one hundred percent comfortable with speaking to us but we need to know what’s going on with you.”

Tony snorted. “I’m fine, Capsicle. Don’t worry about me. Just sore from the battle.” He said hoarsely, wincing at the sound of his voice.

He was wearing a loose sweater. He thought briefly that he should have rethought his choice of clothing before Natasha was slowing unzipping the sweater. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to hear the worried gasps and low curses from his team. There were several wounds littering his entire body. Some of the men enjoyed causing their toys pain and would do whatever got them to climax the quickest, using whatever they had to hurt him. Sometimes it was their nails. Sometimes there were knives. And sometimes, when there was nothing else, they would use their keys. There were bruises forming on his neck, obvious hand prints wrapped around his throat. A couple of the cuts on his chest were sluggishly bleeding. The list went on and on. He was covered with injuries.

“Please,” Steve sounded like he was five seconds away from sobbing, “I want to help you. We want to help you. Tony, we love you. You’re an important part of our family and we would do anything for you.”

 _Family._ “Look, there’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun. I love having rough sex. What’s wrong with that?” Tony tried sounding flippant, like he was talking about the weather, but it was hard when he sounded like he swallowed an entire cup of nails.

When he was being used, whatever thoughts that clouded his mind were erased. At least for the moment. The moment the thoughts were back and he could barely keep his head above water, he would head back to the room and let them fuck the thoughts right out of his head. Death frequented his mind more often than not. He wanted nothing more than to swallow the entire medicine cabinet and wash them down with the most expensive alcohol in the tower. Other times, he wanted to grab something sharp and mutilate his entire body until there was blood everywhere and no chance of survival.

He must have gone back inside his head because the next thing he knew, he was being pulled into strong arms. He opened his mouth to complain, to force Steve to release him, to do something that would only hurt him in the long run, but he was tired of running away from his problems. Deep down, he knew that what he was doing wasn’t normal. Normal people didn’t need to be broken into a million pieces to feel some kind of peace. Normal people didn’t think about death on a daily basis. Normal people wanted to be happy. But Tony was petrified of the mere thought of one day being happy enough that death and that room were far from his mind. Because there was always a chance that his happiness would be taken away and there was no way he could survive something like that.

“I’m not normal.” He breathed, “I never have been. While other kids were dreaming about becoming doctors and lawyers, I was dreaming about jumping off a bridge. Every time I walk out that door, I hope and pray that it’s the last time. That some villain manages to outsmart me and knock me down permanently. Even when I am on the brink of death, you bring me back and I can’t help but want to hate you for that. For keeping me here. God, Steve. I want to close my eyes tonight and not wake up in the morning. I don’t want to be here anymore. Please don’t make me stay. I hate being here, I hate this place. I hate it so fucking much.” By the time he stopped talking, he was sobbing into Steve’s chest and pulling him closer.

Natasha rubbed his back soothingly. “You are not alone in this, Tony.” She said softly.

Clint was right behind her, nodding furiously. “You’re stuck with me forever, man. That’s what bros are for, you know?” He added.

Even Thor was there with a gentle smile playing on his lips, something that was definitely not a common theme for the boisterous thunder god. He placed a hand on his head and nodded in agreement with the others. “Not only do we stand beside you in battle against the mightiest foes but in battle against yourself. A brother in arms is a brother in heart.” He kept his voice light, knowing that his typically booming voice wouldn’t be appreciated at that point in time.

Steve brought the brunette into his arms and carried the trembling man into the living room. Bruce was there with some medical supplies, prepared to examine the worst of the injuries. “I know better than anyone how it feels to want to put an end to everything. But if I’m being honest with you, I’m glad the Other Guy never let me succeed in putting a bullet in my head. I would have missed out on turning my unusual… circumstance into something good.” He said softly.

Even as Tony sobbed, clutching onto Steve, he remained relatively still and let Bruce do what he needed to do. The others were hovering around the resident genius. The broken man seated on the couch was not the man they had known. Tony Stark was obnoxious and confident, nothing could bring him down. But Steve knew that Tony Stark was a mask that he wore. Tony was someone else entirely.

While Stark was selfish and unforgiving, Tony was overly generous and prepared to give anyone a second chance. While Stark was obnoxious and narcissistic, Tony had an overwhelming amount of self-esteem and body image issues. While Stark could care less about being accepted by those around him, Tony obsessed over being accepted by those that mattered. Of course none of the Avengers had come to know the real Tony. The only person he had ever let in was Steve.

“I can remember waking up in a world different from my own. Everything had changed, not a single thing had stayed the same. But as time went on, I realized that change doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Sure, I miss my friends and I wish I could have gotten the chance to watch them live out their lives, to have been there with them, but I happen to like where I am right now. Because this is where you are and without you, I don’t think I would’ve been able to come to terms with everything. You make this strange world bearable. You’ve made this insane time my own. I love you more than words could ever say. I’m not going to leave your side, Tony. Not for one second. We are going to find someone that can help you with whatever is going on inside that gorgeous head of yours. It may not be an instant fix but it’s a start.” As Steve continued speaking, Tony melted against his chest.

Depression is not kind. Depression is not beautiful. Depression is not a fashion trend. Depression is not a phase. But as hard as depression can be to battle, it becomes a lot easier when you’re not facing it alone.

 


End file.
